


Lacuna

by bellaciao21



Series: AUs [2]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Seizure, Vomiting, mentions of guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28383201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaciao21/pseuds/bellaciao21
Summary: lacuna (n.) - a blank space, a missing part
Relationships: Javier Peña/OC, Javier Peña/Original Female Character(s), Javier Peña/Reader
Series: AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060922
Kudos: 14





	Lacuna

Even in a moment like this, Javi was selfish. All he could think about was himself; how it was _his_ fault, how _he_ had fucked up, how _he_ had failed her.

Except now, he had failed her one last time. For good.

He was stuck. Stuck about 7 minutes ago, when the paramedics had announced the time of death after failing to resuscitate her. _2:31 pm_. None of it seemed real. He wished he could go back a few hours ago, when she had smiled affectionately at him and told him she loved him.

It all happened so fast. He didn’t have time to blink, to breathe, to register.

‘Javi–’, she had choked out, looking up at him, eyes terrified.

She had known what was coming. Javi did, too. She had had seizures before, but he didn’t expect _this_. He would’ve never imagined it, not if he had a gun to his head.

She had been strong, squeezing his hand tightly, as if she refused to part from him. Even as she left this world, she put up a fight. Her hand slipped from his only when the paramedics pulled her away.

Javi couldn’t stand up. He had knelt in the grass the whole time and watched helplessly, hoping she’d pull through. He had told himself it’d be okay. _It’s happened before._ But the universe tricked him, pulled a cruel prank on him. _Alright, you won. Now, give her back. Give her back right now._ His breathing still hadn’t evened. He hadn’t shed a single tear, either. He was waiting. Waiting for what? For her to rise from the dead? It didn’t work like that.

Javi had lost things before; he had had things taken from him, but none as cruelly as her. She was different; she was supposed to be untouchable. They could’ve taken anything they wanted from him, but not _her_. He needed her. He had endangered her too many times. He had hurt her and betrayed her, yet she forgave him every time. Her love for him transcended everything. Because she needed him, too. She had trusted him to take care of her, to protect her… and he failed miserably. He had done everything by the book; caught her when her knees gave in, called the ambulance while she was trembling in his arms, allowed the paramedics to do their job… and then that forsaken beeping wouldn’t stop. It rang in his ears, deafening. At first, Javi hadn’t realized what happened. His eyes had moved from her to the monitor. The flat line laughed in his face. _You lost, Peña. Game over._

The paramedics’ voices were muffled when they talked to him. Javi continued to stare at her. This was ridiculous. Why weren’t they helping her? A strange relief washed over him when she stilled. Her eyes were closed, head lolled to the side, expression peaceful. He reached out to brush her hair from her face.

‘Bonita?’, he called weakly, voice cracking.

His lower lip began to tremble as tears brimmed his eyes. _Don’t do this to me_. Why the fuck was he blaming her? He had done this. It was _his_ fault. The narcos hadn’t managed to kill her, but leave it to Javier to finish the fucking job. Why complicate things with bullets and explosives? All it takes is a fucking seizure. One seizure for Javi’s life to fall apart, one seizure for him to never be the same; to never be whole again.

He knew the feeling would get worse. He was still in shock, but the abyss growing within him would only spread. And he wasn’t getting out of this one. He would stay there for the rest of his days, forced to look his mistakes dead in the eye, unable to fix them. If he had known things would turn out like this, he would’ve never approached her at the embassy. _You don’t wanna be around me. Wherever I go, death follows. I’ll get you killed._

Isn’t that why they were here? Javi got played again. Did he really think he could have someone like her? That he could keep her? Who the fuck did he think he was? He was getting angry with her, too. _Why did you leave me? Why did it have to be like this? I thought we were happy. And you fucking left._

Because he hadn’t been enough.

He didn’t have it in him to call their friends; as if not telling them would somehow undo her death. None of it mattered. The press would find out anyway. _People may mourn and offer their condolences, but they’ll never understand._ It was difficult to put it into words because there _were_ no words. Nothing remained; nothing that could fix it, or make it better, or comfort him.

_Now, what?_

Now, he’d wake up alone in an empty bed, in an empty house that was no longer home. He’d walk downstairs, into the kitchen, and eat alone. He’d return from work and be alone. There’d be no more loving smiles, no more ‘I love you’s, no more judgmental frowns, no more eyerolls at his jokes, no more arms to hold him.

His wife had always been the most intelligent and beautiful person in the room. She had everyone wrapped around her finger, Javi himself first and foremost. Now, he had no purpose, no direction, nothing. In many ways, he died with her; or maybe he died in that split second when her grip on his hand loosened. She had let go. Didn’t people say you always carry your loved ones in your heart? _What heart? The heart is just a fucking muscle. When it beats, it mocks you. Until it doesn’t anymore. In the end, it tells you you’re a son of a bitch._ Though it wasn’t Javi’s heart telling him this. It was _hers_. Javi had been on borrowed time, even if he took it for granted. He had to return it, eventually. Or bury it.

Javi hadn’t even noticed that his feet carried him to the bathroom until he was hunched over the toilet and emptying his stomach into it. His whole body burned, yet the pain didn’t compare to losing her. It was a small price to pay. He deserved it. Maybe that’s how it was going to be from now on. Countless small prices to pay for her life. They were going to take her away from him. Maybe it would be mercy; meant to spare him from witnessing what would happen to her body in the next months, the next years. Years that Javi would spend on his own, getting older. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t go on. She was the one who was supposed to grow old. She had done things with her life, and she would’ve done so much more. It wasn’t fucking fair. Why was he thinking about all of this? He was only making himself sicker. She had told him over and over again to stop blaming himself. _It’s not your fault, Javi. You did your best._

Well, his best hadn’t been enough. She should be laughing at him; for looking the way he did, for thinking the way he did, for throwing up. Javi himself would’ve laughed, but he knew he wasn’t capable of that anymore. He felt nothing. He had spent his emotions. He had nothing more to give, and nothing more to keep.

He was gone. _She_ was gone. And whatever came next would be a slow, tedious process.

But this grief, this pain– they were all he had left of her.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: walt-breslin, bella-ciao (main blog)  
> Ko-fi: bellaciao


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